


whatever it takes

by moroodors



Series: whatever it takes [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Gen, mabel presses the button au, there's a little bit fiddauthor in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 12:55:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16264643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moroodors/pseuds/moroodors
Summary: in that moment, mabel’s never reminded stan of ford more.





	1. skeleton in the basement

**Author's Note:**

> hey, this is also posted to wattpad under the same name if you’re into that.

Stanley Pines was alone. 

He was used to it, of course. Being the unwanted twin would do that to you. Being homeless at seventeen would do that to you. Pushing your twin brother into an alternate dimension would do that to you. 

Stanley Pines was alone even though he was surrounded by people. There was Mabel and Dipper and Soos and Stanley was alone. His twin brother (the other half of the dynamic duo-) was minutes away and Stanley felt more alone than he ever has because he knows that he's about to be not alone very soon. 

It was three versus one and Stanley was alone on his defense and it feels like he's trying to convince the devil to buy a heater. The giant eye of the portal loomed over the room abnormally in the same way bricks weren't supposed to and Stanley was trying to sell his hardest product: himself. 

He doesn't know what the kids know and he doesn't know how they got down here in the first place but here they were. Stanley knew how to roll with the punches.

(It was a lesson that he was forced to learn. Driven hard into him like a nail when he was in Columbia. Suffocating him as the air around him turned stale. As putrid as the taste of blood filling his mouth as he chewed his way through. He didn't survive being locked in a trunk by sitting around and thinking about it. Life knocked you out and you had to stand up and brush yourself off.)

Stanley could see that the kids were terrified. He couldn't blame them, he was too. Dipper had been so close to hitting that button, only stopping by Stan's yells at the last second. There wasn't enough time to explain everything and Stanley wants to kick his own ass for being such a coward and not explaining everything sooner. 

(Stanley could only imagine how that could turn out. Sitting the kids down. Pulling out Journal 1 and seeing Dipper vibrate from excitement. Mabel joining when she learns she had another great uncle. "And another twin!" Mabel screeches so high that it sends spikes through his hearing aid. The weight being lifted off his chest that he's gotten used to and he finally feels like he can breathe for the first time in thirty years. No more lies. Boy, a man can dream.) 

Being a coward is what brought Stanley to come running as soon as his brother said so, whether that be a positive or negative thing. It's what made him drive all the way to Oregon without a break, just enough time for hopes and dreams to manifest enough to be crushed under the boot of his very own twin. 

Being a coward led Stanley to visit his brother's science fair project alone. To not coming home after he was kicked out. To stealing his brother's identity. His life was driven by fear and the stupid, un-thought out responses to that fear.

Gravity was falling (Ha, Stanley thinks, almost laughing out loud. His nerves are pulling up in his stomach and he's desperate to expel them somehow. But he sees Mabel's face again and it quickly dies.) and he's rising in the air. His heart skips for a moment as he realizes they're all floating up like he did thirty years ago. But he takes a breath. They're not passed the yellow line. He needs to focus. 

He swallows his fear like a pill, ignores the ways his old man body seems to be working against him, ignores the doubts in his head that seem to get louder every year, ignores the way his legs feel numb at the anticipation like he's about to go on a roller coaster, ignores the way his eyes are stinging (from the light of the portal, Stan insists to himself, he doesn't know who's he kidding), and summons all the stubbornness he's harbored all his life. 

Stanley's against the wall and there's nothing he can do. There's nothing anyone can do besides Mabel.

Mabel Pines. A force to be reckoned with. Kind. Bubbly. Erratic. Loving. Forgiving. Confident. Too good for Stanley Pines and his shakespearean tragedy of a life (or, maybe his life is more Dickens). She was the belly-laughter in the late afternoon summer. She was the overwhelming need for tears when reunited with an old friend. She was the first breath of air you take after you thought you wouldn't take anymore. She was the crinkle next to your eyes, worn in from years of smiling. She was walking in a warm room from a blizzard outside. She was warm sand under your toes, the clink of your soda bottles together, and a High-Six. Mabel Pines. Sweaters, braces, glitter, and a smile that would knock you off your feet. 

She acted on her heart, reminding Stanley of himself. She contrasted Dipper, who acted according to his head. They complimented each other in a way that Stanley and his brother never could. 

"Listen to your head!" God, did Dipper remind Stanley of his brother. The way he calculated everyone and everything. The way he tackled life with an eagerness to solve life's mysteries. The way he was so incredibly smart but still struggled with talking to people. 

Dipper complimented Mabel in a way that Stan and his brother never had. Together, Mabel and Dipper could defeat anything. He knew deep in his heart that they wouldn't end up like Stan and his brother. He was determined to make that happen. 

(Yet, here he was. Pitting them against each other. Forcing Mabel to make an impossible choice between him and Dipper.) 

His world was in Mabel's hands. Hands too small to be carrying all that. She was just a child. And Stanley was terrified. Maybe it was wrong for him to be that scared, but he was. 

He had to focus. Take a deep breath. Focus on your feelings. Control your fear. 

Soon, everything will change. Everything he's worked for will finally reach its apex. He'd finally be able to stop lying, throw his arms open and just hug his brother. Talk to him. Say sorry. Say I love you. Remember together. Have him meet the family. Share a High-Six. 

But then he locked eyes with Mabel and he knew. He knew. 

Mabel wore her heart on her sleeve and he knew what was about to happen. He knew with cold feeling that dropped from his gut to his toes. His shoulders slumped and immediately his eyes stung. Any words he could have provided died on his lips.  

Mabel looked away from him, voice barely getting past the roar of the portal behind her but surrounding Stan all the same, "Grunkle Stan, I'm sorry."

She pressed the button with a red 00:01 on the clock. The portal blinked out of existence and gravity caught up with them, pulling them all back down to earth. 

Stan pushed himself up to his feet immediately. He stared at the thing he's put countless hours into, mouth agape as he felt empty inside. 

He could see Dipper run to help Mabel up, pulling her away from Stan like he was some wild animal but Stan felt removed. His hands and feet felt tingly, as if they were some tv channel without signal and distantly he could hear himself muttering "No..," over and over like a mantra. 

His mind wasn't processing enough to figure out the what the looks on the twins's faces meant. He clung to the word No like it was a safety blanket and he was a scared kid. 

A glint from the ground caught his attention and he saw Journal 1 laying innocently in front of him. He stumbled forward, throwing himself down and skidding on his knees. He laid his hand on the six-fingered one on the cover, just spotting his reflection in the gold before tears obscured his vision too much. He clutched the book to his chest as he sobbed. Loud, gross, and ugly. 

He didn't even need to check the portal's control panel to know. He was never going to see Stanford again. 

He wept.


	2. poking the wild animal

Mabel usually acted on her heart. 

In that moment, she acted on her head. 

She wanted to believe her Grunkle, but she didn't even know if he was her Grunkle. 

But the decision was coming all to fast and she had to rush her answer. She chose Dipper. Of course, she did. Dipper is her twin brother. He's the one constant she'll always have in her life. She trusted him. She didn't trust Stan anymore. 

So she pressed her hand down on the hard red plastic, shutting down the portal and seemingly shutting down her mind as well. She couldn't quite comprehend the enormity of her action. She pressed the button. Prevented the end of the world.

The world falls back into place and Mabel hits the ground with a weird landing on her knee. She focuses on that because it hurts to think of anything else. The entire universe was in her control for a moment and now it wasn't and she didn't know what was going to happen next. So, she focused on her knee because she knew what would happen. It will hurt. It will heal. She will move on. 

Dipper is next to her in a moment, a rough, sweaty hand that's familiar in all the best ways helps her up and stays in hers. His eyes are wide and scared but his mouth is thin and straight like when he's solving some science problem she doesn't understand and it's comforting like a sweet hug after a sour day. 

He whispers with barely any sound, "Stay behind me, it's not safe." And with a jolt Mabel nods because she's unsure of what else to do because she just remembered that her Grunkle is over there but maybe he isn't her Grunkle. Her heart was making up for the time she ignored it and throbbing loud in her ears, pieces swirling like a tornado inside her. 

They're slowing backing away but Mabel stops both of them with a hand in Dipper's shoulder. It starts quiet, brewing like a volcano, before erupting and Mabel feels destroyed. 

Stan is sobbing. 

Looking smaller and weaker than she's ever seen him. Than she's ever imagined him. He's clutching Journal 1 to his chest and Mabel is confused more than ever. A heart beat of regret bleeds through her. 

Mabel acts on her heart and takes a small step forward. And another. And she's walking slowly over to Stan. Her steps echo against the cold concrete and the room that was just very loud is now too quiet. Too filled with her footsteps and Stan's crying. 

Mabel lays a hand on Stan's shoulder like she did Dipper because Stan is family. She knows. She knows. 

But Stan jerks his head up at her touch and Mabel takes a step back in surprise, her hand leaving his shoulder and she can see his heart break. His blue eyes are swirling and churning with tears like the ocean, water-falling past his cheeks and down his chin. 

His voice is wobbly, weak, and filled with a pain that seems too old for Mabel to understand. Paradoxically, in this moment, Stan looks both the youngest and oldest Mabel's ever seen him. "He's gone." 

Mabel tries to say something at first, her lips forming the words but no sound coming out. She swallows, clears her throat, and tries again. "Who?" She asks after a silence. 

Stan looks away from her and towards the Journal, thumb brushing over the fingertips of the six-fingered hand. "He's why I rebuilt this portal. He's why I would risk the end of the world." There's a pregnant pause and Mabel can see Stan's hands tighten on the Journal. "My twin brother." 

"That's not possible," Dipper says with a step forward, softly but confidently. Stan jerks his head to him and a fresh wave of tears roll down his face as Dipper stares hard back at him. "We would know if you have a twin brother."

"Weirder things have happened in this town, kid," Stan stays after too long, not really responding to the argument. 

The quiet that follows is broken by the shouts from the FBI agents upstairs. Stan rises from the ground and floats over to the screen in the control room, looking unbalanced as he grabs onto every surface he can. He keeps one hand clutched to the Journal. 

Stan returns to the room a few minutes later, looking very tired. "Looks like we have a while before they're a major problem, but we're stuck down here until then."

"If we're stuck down here," Soos says, speaking for the first time and seeming to catch Stan off guard with a look in his eyes that Mabel sees in her parents'. "Why don't you tell us your whole mysterious backstory?"

"It seems like I owe you all at least that much," Stan says while letting out a long breath, shoulders hunching in on himself. He clears his throat and begins his tale.


	3. carton and darnay

It was hard for Stanley to tell the story with half of it missing.

It was hard to see Stanford in Mabel and Dipper and talk about him like he's gone forever (dead, something inside him says, a poison drifting through his veins). 

It was hard.

Stanley had thirty years of hindsight to sock him in the nose and it wasn't comfortable. He squirmed with a desperation to apologize to Stanford, a heavy weight in his gut getting heavier.

He told how they found the Stan O' War first. Stanley could remember clearly the sand beneath his toes, the sun kissing their skin, paint seeping into their clothes, the glint of Stanford's glasses catching the sun, and a sweet hope for the future that felt rotten now.

He spoke about salty air, warm nights, flashlights under blanket forts, milkshake mustaches, boxing lessons, lost DD&MD pieces, and imaginations that stretched farther than them both. Hopes for a future that wouldn't exist. Them versus the world. 

That childhood innocence had slowly morphed into a twisted version of itself as they neared the end of high school. There was pressures and expectations. They were becoming their own people. What drove them in life changed.

Stanley put family before anything else, a left hook and a few well aimed words for those that didn't agree with him. He was; snapping along to your favorite song, warm leather sticking to your sweaty legs, the crunch of a nose under your knuckles, the uncontrollable laughter that you try to keep hidden in the back of class, passing love notes with your partner. Stanford lived his life in the pursuit of knowledge, dreaming of changing the world with his name in a textbook, a brewing argument for those who didn't agree with him. He was; the smile that overtakes your face as a well planned move is executed, finishing a life-changing novel at 2 a.m., the satisfaction of solving a math problem, sweaty palms and running fingers through your hair, poisonous words that knew the perfect place to hit, the terrifyingly uncontrollable actions that are a result of powerful emotions.

Together they were; a sentence ended in the wrong spot, feeling alone in a crowded room, a newly sharpened pencil breaking immediately, ice cream falling to the ground, socks slipping past your heels, a spoiled ending. 

It turned to Them versus Each other. 

Stanford was the independent variable, changing and controlling the situation, and Stanley was the dependent variable, changing according to the independent variable. 

(Damn, all those science books were getting to him.)

When telling the story, Stanley skips a lot. Some memories he has to skip because he can't go and tell his whole fifty-something year old life - it would take too long. There's also some memories that Stanley keeps close to his chest, they feel too personal for the rest of the world.

An example of a memory that Stanley keeps close is the one where it's raining and Stanford is crying, for the first time in years, tucked in small corner under the bleachers. Stanley stood in front of him with harsh hands on his hips like their father but a worried look in his eyes like their mother. A girl had just asked Stanford to the movies, resulting in a blurted "Yes," and Stanford looking quite pale as he swept out immediately afterwards. 

Stanley had followed him and Stanford had sat there with ragged breathing and hot tears and a confused Stanley for ten minutes before he caught his breath and spoke to Stanley, cutting right to the chase in the way he always does (Why waste time? He would say.) "I like boys." He hugged his knees close to his chest, pants soaking with mud, avoiding eyes, but sounding as confident as he always does. 

If this had been anyone else saying this, Stanley wouldn't understand. (Things have changed over the years to 2012, but before, such a thing as boys liking boys seemed impossible.) But this was Stanford, so Stanley understood immediately. "You owe me." Is all he says before he shrugs off his jacket and gives it to Stanford who was shivering, turning away with a "Get yourself cleaned up. I'll go take notes for you in class."

And the next day Stanley is wearing Stanford's glasses, a button up shirt and red bow-tie. He picks up Stanford's date and takes her to the movies, even delivering a left hook to some creep and earning Stanford some school cred for the next couple of weeks. 

Stanley doesn't tell this story. It seems too pure, as if saying it will crush it and take it away like it never even happened. 

Stanley is only able to tell his side of the story. He isn't able to tell the kids how Stanford got to Gravity Falls, how he started writing the Journals, what made him build the portal. He's only able to tell how Stanford's story begins and ends. 

Stanley's tale ends and his mouth feels dry and his throat tight. He feels more alone than he ever has. He feels old, tired, like a part of him died. 

"You mean, you have a twin brother that you've been working for thirty years to save, and I just stopped you?" Mabel's voice sounded as broken as Stan felt.

Stan doesn't respond in any way. He doesn't have the energy to either agree with Mabel or bring down Mabel's guilt some. 

However, Stan is saved some, as there are shouts from the FBI agents upstairs. Stan groans and pops some of his aging joints. A stab of pain through his heart reminds him that Stanford is the this old too. Stan wonders briefly what he looks like after all these years. 

(Stan never considers that Stanford could've died already. If Stan knew anything about Stanford, it was that Stanford wasn't about to lie down and wave a white flag. There was no way Stanford was dead right now. Stanford wouldn't have allowed it. And besides, Stan firmly believes that if Stanford was dead, he would know.)

Dipper reaches in his backpack and takes out a weird gun-looking thing. He holds it out to Stan. "This is a gun that can erase memories. You type what you want erased and just shoot it at someone. I think we can use it on those agents."

Pain pounds through Stan's heart as he is reminded yet again of Stanford. Dipper is so much like him. Obtaining weird items and always having them on hand in case the one situation they could be used in happened. 

Stan takes the gun from Dipper, feeling the cold brass in his hands. He turns the dial experimentally, giving little resistance as he settles on typing in the name Stanford Pines. 

Stan stares at the name in bright green letters for a few long moments before sighing. He doesn't meet any of the kids eyes. "I'll go take care of the agents. You all stay down here."

With the Journal in one hand, and the memory gun in the other, Stanley "Stanford" Pines goes upstairs and erases Stanford Pines from the minds of the people.


	4. the tall grass

That night, after the kids have gone to bed in the broken shack, Stan looks at the memory gun. 

He keeps it on his desk, unsure of where to put it. Next to it, he has placed the canister that Dipper had explained was filled with the memories that were taken. 

Now, he's sitting on his bed, staring at the memory gun, staring back at him, and thinking. 

It's never good when he was too much time to think. 

He'll never forget that night in the second week in which he was kicked out. Seventeen, scared, starving, and homeless. Parking his car at 2 a.m. by the bridge by his school and just feeling so alone and worthless and stupid and sad and alone and just so alone. But what results is: a few broken bones, an idea that rears it's ugly head whenever Stan feels too alone, and a feeling that Stan can't do anything right. 

Stan doubts he can forget the distrust in the kids's faces, a bitter hate before it's replaced with an unease they can't seem to shake. Stan knows they still don't trust him as much as before, as evident when they tucked themselves into bed, not needing Stan. 

Stan feels like he can't do anything right. 

He couldn't let Stanford leave to college, he couldn't help Stanford when it really mattered, and he couldn't fix his mistakes and bring Stanford back. 

His string of fate was intertwined with failure. 

He feels alone. Isolated. He's ruined his relationship with his family and he has no one left. He was vulnerable, desperate, not thinking straight. 

He was so close to seeing his brother again and it was ripped away from him just as his fingertips were grasping it. Just as he got a taste for the enormity of what he could lose, he lost it. Lost it. Lost it. Lost it.

He's alone. Him versus the world. 

Sometime around midnight, he falls asleep. He doesn't realize so until he's dreaming. 

He's dreaming of the same room he is in now. He watches as the triangle window that's always been there comes to life with a, "I've been wanting to meet you for a long time, Stanley."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> catch the Pokémon reference?


	5. sweaters and the multiverse

Infinite dimensions meant infinite possibilities. 

It meant there was an infinite chance of Stanford meeting another Stanford in his travels. 

He didn't realize this until many years after he was first pushing into the portal. It was hard for him to think about. It makes his existence feel all the smaller. 

The first time Stanford met a Stanford from another dimension, he almost cried. He had just recently lost track of how long he's been in the wrong side of the portal and was caught off guard. His mind had first went to pain and distrust and science fairs and mostly bug-free dorms and the ocean and a swing set and

and

Sta

No, Stanford couldn't afford to be distracted. 

He had shook his head, swallowed his paranoia of Trust no one, not even yourself and walked forward. He and himself (weird) and shared a smile and a six fingered handshake. They had found a small corner of the vast market place and spoke together for hours. 

The Other Stanford looked older than he was, scars dancing up his arms, cut across with tattoos that were in languages Stanford couldn't understand. He said we was a dimension known as 98!-. They traded stores and the only difference they could find in dimensions is that the Other Stanford had no idea what a yo-yo was. 

The Other Stanford had said that two of the same people from different dimensions should never touch when in a dimension. The market place in which they had met laid in-between dimensions so they were lucky to have met here. 

(He also said something about dimensions that consisted only of one person's alternate selves. He said these were very annoying.) 

Soon, they parted ways and Stanford went on. 

He learned that his own dimension was called 36#). He learned that he really doesn't like the taste of Gantraz meat. He learned that head surgeries really hurt afterwards. He learned that he can't go more than five days without eating. He learned that the sunsets on Magrathea were beautiful. He learned he really misses the ocean. He learned that red looks good on him. He learned. 

The next time Stanford saw himself was when he stepped through a naturally occurring portal and found himself in a place that very much looked like his own dimension. 

He stood in front of his own house, a heavy blizzard obscuring his view of looking at it too much. He tightened his hood around his greying hair and walked forward. His boots crunched against the snow, seeping in slightly through the worn soles. 

He brings his knuckles to the door that sends a heartbeat of ache bleeding through him and knocks a sturdy three knocks. A quick few heavy footsteps followed, getting progressively louder before the door is swung open, a crossbow making him go cross eyed and a wave of deja-vu rolling over him. 

A younger version of himself is staring back at him, looking terrible. He has heavy bags under his eyes, looking horribly thin, shaking with wide eyes. His voice is harsh, stabbing. "What is the meaning of this?" 

Over the Other Stanford's shoulder, Stanford can see his house in a total disarray. There was paper everywhere; books and trash littering every surface. That was broken glass and experiments and crossed out eyes. And there was Stanley. 

Stanley had been standing amongst it all, nervous hands fumbling in front of him. Mullet and all, looking very young. 

Him and this Other Stanley had locked eyes and confusion was drawn over Stanley's face. He then walked forward and pushed his Stanford away with a gentle shove. "Sixer?" 

And Stanford flinches because of course he does. That nickname has been poisoned and it no longer gives Stanford nostalgia, it gives him pain and worry and paranoia and sleepless night and stale coffee and broken promises. 

But he reaches up with a hand that causes a harsh intake of air from both brothers and he takes down his hood, feeling very vulnerable. "Hello, I'm Stanford Pines. I'm not from this dimension."

The crossbow reared back up, poking the end of his nose. "Prove it." 

Stanford then swallows and clears his throat, trying to think of something. "Okay, must we mustn't touch or it will have dire consequences on this dimension." An idea pops in his head. He turns to Stanley, a nervousness pitting in his stomach. "High Six?" 

Stanley's eyes light up and he moves the crossbow out of the way, slapping Stanford's hand with a loud smack. "Ha, it is you!" 

The Other Stanford still looked very confused but he lowered his crossbow. "How'd you get here? Is this caused from the Portal?"

Stanford considers the answer for a moment before nodding. "Yes, but not in the way you think. I'll explain inside." And so then Stanford pushed past the twins- making sure to keep Stanley in-between them- and into the kitchen, starting a pot of old coffee. 

After, they all take a seat at the table that has been recently wiped off. Stanley and the Other Stanford are sitting on one side and Stanford is on the other side, sitting about a foot away from the table so their feet don't accidentally touch or something stupid like that. 

Stanford stares down at his coffee cup to avoid the twins's eyes, swirling the contents and wondering when he started to prefer the coffee beans he got from that market place a few dimensions back. "I'm not sure what's different and what's the same in our dimensions; but, when I called Stanley, we had a fight. It ended with him pushing me into the portal. I've been surviving and traveling the multiverse ever since."

The Other Stanford is staring at him with his mouth slightly agape, but it's Stanley that speaks first, "Wait, portal?"

Stanford nods, "In the basement there is a portal that leads to a nightmare dimension. I was tricked into building it. I thought it would lead to something greater, but it will bring the end of the world." 

Stanley had a look on his face that Stanford can't read and it makes his heart hurt. "And I pushed you into it?"

Stanford suddenly felt the need to defend his Stanley. "Not intentionally." Stanford then meets his own scared eyes. "It's very important that you don't bring Stanley down there. Destroy the portal immediately." He thinks for a moment, "Maybe call Fiddleford. He can help." 

Thinking about Fiddleford hurts. He remembers sleepless nights, hands fitting perfectly with each other, banjo strumming, hot coffee with a comforting hug, country accents, and betrayal stinging like a knife. 

Thinking about Fiddleford reminds him of Stanley. They had once been so close and now it's been at least ten years and the most civil conversation he's had with him is with an alternate version of him. He suddenly misses his home very much. (He's technically in his home right now, but it doesn't feel like it. It's never felt like it.) 

He stood up with a jerk, splashing coffee on the ground. He hasn't drunk any. He takes jerky steps over to Stanley and pulls him up from his chair with a soft hand under his arm. 

Stanford stands in front of him, both his hands on Stanley's shoulders. A few heartbeats pass and Stanford pulls Stanley into a tight hug, pushing his face into the place it's always gone. He can't remember the last time he hugged Stanley. He can't remember the last time he hugged anyone.

"I miss you, Stanley," He said, voice thick. 

Stanley hugs back just as tight and it feels like he needed this too. He doesn't say anything, but Stanford can feel a wetness form on his shoulder. 

"I must go," Stanford says after a little while, pulling away with a wipe at his nose. He pulls his portal gun out of his backpack. Stanford sweeps himself out of the house and leaves the dimension, feeling much older than he did before. 

It's many years and many wrinkles later when Stanford meets another version of himself. The Other Stanford says he's from dimension 46'/ and that he's building a gun that's powerful enough to destroy Bill Cipher. Stanford doesn't think it works, however, as he still hears news about how Cipher is tormenting another dimension.

Stanford's hair is grey and his body hurts a lot of the time. He's alone all the time and it has been a long time since he has had a home. He's used to multidimensional food and always wears a translator on his wrist. He's lost track of how old he is. He rolls with the punches. He goes on.


	6. broken dreams

"Bill Cipher."

Stanley knows this triangle, this thing, because of course he does. He's practically memorized all of Stanford's journals. He can remember the blood drops and the Do not summon at any costs! writing in Stanford's dumb loopy handwriting (the same loopy handwriting that was really hard to replicate, but could easily change into Stan's large, harsh letters).

This thinking just made Stan sadder.

Bill laughed, the sound surrounding Stan but leaving Stan unable to pinpoint a source. "I figured you would know me. Old Sixer talks a lot about me in his journals, doesn't he?" 

"What's your deal?" Stan said with a cross of his arms as Bill floated closer to him. "Why'd you want to meet me?"

His one eye looked hard into Stan's and he leaned on his cane. It was harder to read his face when he didn't have a mouth. "We are similar, you and I." His high voice hurt Stan's head. "We both know how the world works, what makes it spin. We both will do what it takes for those close to us. We both want your brother in this dimension."

Stan didn't say anything in response immediately, so Bill talked more, resembling pacing as he floated back and forth in front Stan, keeping eye-contact with him. "You, Stanley, are something special. I've never seen something in the multiverse quite like you. You're tough, roll with the punches. You're loyal. You even still care about your brother, even though he's stopped thinking about you a long time ago."

And Stan's sad, so of course he asks, "You know how Ford's doing?" 

Bill looks at him for a long moment before shrugging, "Since I'm a nice guy, I'll just show you for free instead of asking for something in return." And with a snap of his fingers, a screen appears in front of Stan. 

It blinks alive and there he is, looking older than Stan has ever seen him. He also looks so different. A stranger with his own face, Ford is aiming a gun that's unlike anything he's ever seen. There's a cut on his forehead, dripping blood on his grey eyebrows. His glasses are cracked and show the reflection of the glowing blue beast he's currently fighting. His features are sharp, rugged, set in concentration.

There's a loud roar, Ford's eyes widen, and he's hit in the face with a purple rock shot from the monster's mouth. Ford falls and hits his head on the ground with a wince from Stan. Ford spits blood and pushes himself up, the screen going black and then popping out of existence. 

"He's not looking so hot, is he?" Bill says softly. Stan can feel his eye on him as he looks down at his hands, guilt eating him from the inside out. "Fordsy's past 30 years have been filled with many instances just like this one. You saw all his scars, right?"

Bill doesn't wait for Stan to nod before continuing. "All your life, you've made mistakes. You're human. You've messed up. Your skills are limited. But I can help you."

Stan looked up at Bill as his heart felt heavier. Bill floated in close to him. "You only want a family. Something pure. Ford called to me for help and he wanted knowledge, which means power. You're better than him in that way. I can help you bring him back."

"You've helped Ford?" Stan's voice is quiet and sounds foreign even to himself. 

Bill moves himself up and down, which resembles a nod in a way. "He summoned me to this dimension to help him build the portal. I know that portal better than anyone."

"What do you get from this?" Stan stiffens as he remembers the scribbles from his brother that looked like they came from an insane person. "Why would you want to help me?"

Bill turns away from him, facing the window and cross his arms behind his back the same way Ford did. "Him and I were friends once. He trusted me when he trusted no one else, you can understand. I want to fix my relationship with him, get back in touch with him."

Stan raised an eyebrow at this. "Aren't you all-powerful or whatever? Why does he have to be here for you to speak to him?" 

Bill turned back around with a swing of his cane. "There's many rules surrounding the multiverse that your human brain cannot comprehend. Your brother has stuck a metal plate in his head and Gravity Falls in a weak spot, making it much easier to visit here."

Stan takes a long moment to think, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. "You'll help me rebuild the portal to get Ford back home?"

Bill's eye crinkles at the sides and Stan can almost imagine him smiling. "I'll make nightly visits in your dreams with the proper equations and steps." The world around Stan blurred for a moment before coming back into focus, Bill sticks his hand out, blue flames licking his fingertips. "It looks like you're waking up, we have a deal?"

And Stan feels so tired and alone and desperate so he grabs Bill's hand, the fire swallowing his hand. The fire's cold and Bill's hand feels like nothing. "Sure," Stan says, shaking the muse's hand. 

Stan's looking into Bill's eye and suddenly he jerks awake, sitting up with his glasses sideways on his face. The sun is glinting harshly off the memory gun and into his eyes and he can hear distant laughter fading from inside his head. He considers briefly what the future'll be like with a smile on his face.


	7. the calm

The next few weeks, Stan spent a lot of his time in the basement. 

The kids were avoiding him, spending most of their time either in the attic or around town. Stan guessed they were putting all their energy into planning their birthday so they wouldn't have to focus on other things.

(Some of those other things being; that they didn't trust their great uncle anymore, that they have another great uncle they'll never meet, that there was a portal beneath their feet with the capability to destroy the world, puberty.)

Stan put almost all hours of the day into the portal, feeling twenty seven again and filled with an eager hope. Each night Stan was exhausted and feel asleep fast, Bill staying true to his word and visiting every night. His help proved to be very valuable, fixing things that Stan didn't even know needed to fix. He didn't know why his brother was so bananas about this dude. Stan was trusting Bill more and more as the days went by, them turning into something that could be called friends. 

One night, Stan said, "I think I'll take a break tomorrow. It's not as easy as it used to be."

Bill shot Stan a look like he was crazy. "A break? Sixer finally has an opportunity to come home from what you've put him through, and you're going to delay giving that to him? Maybe you're dumber than I thought..." 

Stan worked with a new fire the next day. 

It was nearing the end of the summer and Stan was working in the basement, sitting next to an open circuit board and fiddling with the wires inside. 

He heard the elevator and looked up to see Mabel standing in front of him, avoiding his eyes. "Hey Grunkle Stan."

Stan put his tools down and leaned against the wall where he was sitting on the ground. His eyes felt heavy and he had to fight to keep them open. "Hey kiddo," He said around a yawn. 

Mabel kicked a rock softly and it rolled under one of the machines. "Is it okay if I use to stove to make dinner for all of us? It's me and Dipper's birthday in a few days and all of us haven't been spending much time together recently and I just thought it'd be nice if we all had dinner together tonight." 

Stan smiles because how could be not. "Sure, go ahead. That sounds nice. Come get me when it's ready." 

Mabel smiles like the sun, giving Stan a quick look before turning on her heel and running towards the elevator. "Thanks Grunkle Stan!" She yells over her shoulder as the doors close. 

That kid was something else. Even when she leaves for the summer, Stan doubts he'll ever be able to forget her smiles, her glitter, h̶o̶w̶ ̶s̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶o̶o̶m̶e̶d̶ ̶S̶t̶a̶n̶f̶o̶r̶d̶ her kindness; just her general Mabel-ness. Her and Dipper were a force to be reckoned with. 

He can remember their birth clearly. A tux (what were you supposed to wear to a birth?),eight-ball cane, and gloves stuffed with an extra finger. One wailing was joined by another and suddenly there were two more people on earth. Stan was allowed to hold them fourth, staring through misty eyes at the little Mabel grabbing onto his finger and the little Mason with a brilliant Little Dipper on his forehead.

Stan is warm in memories and doesn't remember the last time he got a full night's rest, so while leaning against the portal's machinery, he closes his eyes and falls asleep. 

He closes his eyes and opens them a moment later to a black and white shack, the only color being the yellow annoyed-looking triangle floating in front of him. 

"You know," Bill says with a cross of his arms, "Your limited human capabilities are getting annoying." 

Stan shrugs, looking around at the mindscape he's gotten used to. "There's not much I can do about that, humans got to sleep."

Bill rubs his face where Stan can imagine his chin being. "But I can do something."

Stan hums in question and Bill continues. "When you fall asleep, I can take over control of your body. I can work on the portal even faster without the need to dumb down everything for you. Then later when you wake up, you have control over your body again." Bill sticks a hand out that become engulfed in blue flames, "All I need is a deal." 

Stan stares at Bill's hand, raising an eyebrow. "You mean, like possession?"

Bill's hand doesn't waver. "No, it's more like me taking your flesh bag for a spin and doing the hard work while you're unconscious. Doing this, we'll get your brother home even faster, which is what you want, right?" 

And that's what Stan wants more than anything; so, he shakes Bill's hand. "What do I do now?"

"Just sit back and relax." And the mindscape fades to black as Stan falls into a proper sleep, dreaming up far away oceans as his body's eyes open with a high pitched laughter, the unnatural yellow piercing the darkness of the basement.


	8. the storm

Dipper still didn't trust Grunkle Stan.

Grunkle Stanley.

Dipper trusted logic, facts. Followed his head even when his heart didn't agree. So, when Mabel said she finished dinner and was going down to the basement for the second time, Dipper went with her. 

"I want to get a closer look at what the heck is down there," He had told her, which was also true. That portal intrigued him. It was the only other thing besides the journal that their mysterious great uncle, who apparently was a freaking genius, had worked on.

So, they stood side-by-side in the elevator, Dipper clinking his pen manically white Mabel bounced on her toes. Dipper's heart pounded loud in his ears, a nervousness making him feel sweatier than normal.

The elevator doors open and the lab is eerily quiet. There's no lights on and the air is hot stuffy. Dipper and Mabel take simultaneous steps forwards, their steps echoing. 

"Kids!" Stan's voice says, eliciting a jump from both Dipper and Mabel and seeming to surround them and making it hard to pinpoint where Stan is. "What are you doing down here?" 

"Remember! It's our together-dinner!" Mabel says brightly and Dipper wants to push her because something feels very Wrong. Why is Stan in the darkness? Where even was he?

"Oh, yeah! Sorry, sweetie, I forget. I'll finish up real quick and be upstairs." There's a churning in Dipper's stomach and he feels very much on edge. 

There's a loud whirring and all of the lab's machines light up, multicolored stars of light filling the space. The symbols around the mouth of the portal also light up, glowing bright blue and lighting up Stan, who was standing in front of the window to the portal room, giving him an ethereal look.

Dipper leans in close to Mabel's ear with a whisper, "Stan's acting weird."

Stan throws his head back and laughs, something high and and shrill and so unlike him. Dipper stiffens with realization just as Stan turns around to reveal bright yellow eyes. 

"Looks like Pine Tree finally got smart," Bill says, not using his Stan voice anymore. Dipper's heart starts beating faster and he's terrified.

"Bill Stan. Bian," Mabel breaths out, eyes narrowing and knees bending as she got into a fighting stance. "We're not scared of you!"

"Oh, but you should be!" Bian's mouth stretched into a smile that's past normal, showing his gums. He takes a jagged step towards the twins, who take a step backwards. "I'm a being of infinite power! I'm feared across the entire multiverse! I'm terrorizing the Pines in every dimension!"

Dipper looked to the ground and picked up the first thing that could be used as a weapon, a short piece of metal pipe. "Get out of our Grunkle's body, Bill!"

Bian kept walking towards them, shoulders hunched and looking off balanced. His limbs were at weird angles that suggested that he didn't really know how to walk. "Why? He's the one that allowed me in! He asked me for help!"

Dipper and Mabel backed up until they were against the wall. Mabel had picked up a book on theoretical physics as her weapon. "Why should we believe you?" Dipper tried to sound confident but feared his nervousness could be heard in his voice. 

Bian's smile stretched impossibly wider. He was now close enough to grab them, looming over them with the lights casting harsh shadows over his face. Dipper is reminded how much stronger their Grunkle is than them. He remembers Stan fighting the zombies with only his fists and tales from boxing classes in his youth. "Your Grunkle Stan wants nothing more than family and that was ripped away from him. He was heart broken and vulnerable and the perfect candidate to be conned. Desperate people will do anything to get what they want. Anything."

And Bian swings a fist, hitting the wall in between Dipper and Mabel with a sickening crunch as Mabel and Dipper flee in opposite directions. They meet back up in front of the portal room window as Bian is distracted with trying to put on the brass knuckles he got from inside Stan's suit jacket. 

"What do we do Dipper?" Mabel asks, eyes wide. They're watering, too. Dipper wants to comfort her but knows there isn't time.

"We have to make him lose consciousness. That's how you got Bill out of my body last time." A chill goes down Dipper's back as he remembers how that felt. Although, he still doesn't trust Stan, Dipper wouldn't want anybody to go through that. 

"Will we have to hurt Stan?" Mabel grips her book harder, eyes flickering over to Bian as he figures out one brass knuckle. 

 

Dipper doesn't want to sugar coat. "Probably." And then to make Mabel (and himself) feel a little better he adds, "But Stan will understand."

Mabel nods, lips straightening and eyebrows furrowing in concentration. She holds a fist out, "Mystery twins?"

And Dipper smiles, despite the situation. He bumps her fist with his own. "Mystery twins."

Mabel runs out in the middle of the room, throwing the book at Bian, waving her arms wildly above her head. "Hey! Look over here!" 

Bian looks over at her, finally figuring out both of the brass knuckles. "What?" 

Dipper takes the distraction that Mabel has provided, tuning out her taunts ("Come over here, you evil dorito!") as he focuses on keeping low to the ground, avoiding the lights and any sounds. He climbs up on top of a shelf behind Bian. He raises the pipe and swings for Bian's head, but holding onto a shelf and aiming with one arm is tough so he hits Bian's shoulder instead. 

Bian spins quickly to face Dipper, now on the ground, with a growl, "You brat."

Mabel takes her opportunity and runs up, kicking Bian in the crotch. "Ha! Take that!"

Bian yells something that Dipper can't make out and falls over. Dipper is about to swing the pipe again Bian jerks his hand up, ripping it away from Dipper's grasp and throwing in to the corner of the room. 

Bian changes his voice back to mocking Grunkle Stan's. "You wouldn't hurt your Grunkle Stan, would you?" And Bian catches Dipper off guard when he pushes a fist forward awkwardly, still from the ground, into Dipper's stomach, resulting in a lost of air as Dipper yells out and falls backward. 

"Dipper!" He hears Mabel yell and then Mabel is at his side, helping him up with a gentle hand under his arm. 

Bian pushes himself up with a low laughter slowing erupting into something loud and echoing. He looks at the twins with his glasses sideways on his face, a cut on his cheek from when he fell to the ground. "You both just don't understand! I've already won! My form exists in multiple dimensions at once and I've already gained a physical form in one! My buddy Stanford is about to make a deal with me so I can take over that whole dimension! It's only a matter of time before I take over this one too, did you two really think that two twelve year old could take down a man who's been hardened into a real fighter?"

Bian lashes out, just missing the twins as they run in different directions again.

Dipper is terrified. He has no idea what to do. They need Stan to fall asleep but he has no idea how to do that. Stan is a seasoned fighter, shaped by hardships the world has to offer. He's also like, 40 years older. Stan is grown and Dipper's barely a man and his brains won't help much now. He's 12, almost 13, technically a teen, and he's fighting for the fate of this dimension. 

Dipper is alone and scared and missing home and Bill Stan is steadily waltzing closer to him like this is all just some sort of sick game to him. 

Stan's eye is bleeding and his mouth is too wide and Dipper can see Mabel barely in the darkness, inching towards the pipe that Bian discarded before. Bian is taunting them because he know he can win and Dipper feels overwhelmed and his stomach hurts really bad and he can't quite catch his breath and his heart is beating really fast and Dipper wants this to just be a bad dream and and and 

Suddenly, Bian jerks, face morphing into concern as his limbs convulse and contort. He's hugging himself, hands gripping his sides sharply. 

"Stanf-wait, Stanley? No! They tricked me! THEY TRICKED ME!" Bian is speaking to something happening past them and both Dipper and Mabel are frozen in fear. Bian is screaming something terrible that Dipper doubts he can ever forget and he covers his ears as the screaming reaches a peak and Dipper can see Bian's eyes roll back before Stan slumps to the ground. 

Somewhere, off in another dimension, Bill Cipher dies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this sucked and/or was confusing. I’ve never written a fight scene before this


	9. aftershocks

Blood's pooling at the corner of his eye, steadily streaming down his face and past his chin to the ground. Two, five fingered fists, one broken and one not, are wrapped around the handle of the sledge hammer. He reels the hammer back and brings it full force forward, smacking the body of the portal with a nasty jolt running up his arms. He doesn't feel it. He doesn't feel anything. 

He's stopped crying a while ago, before Mabel and Dipper had quietly told them they were going upstairs to clean themselves and get some sleep. They told him it wasn't his fault. He knew better. 

Again, he had got his stupid hopes up and he was tired. Tired of heartbreak and tired of wasting his energy on Ford. Ford was never coming back and he needs to just fucking accept it already. 

He had the funeral long ago, for god's sake, with the wrong name on the tomb stone. He's cried all the tears and then some. But his stupid heart kept beating and that meant he still cared for Stanford. 

Stanford was never going to escape him. Haunting him like some sort of ghost from the 17th century. For the past thirty years, he's just been grieving. 

Stanford was dead. He needs to move on.

But he'll never move on. He knows that. He knows. Ford's a part of him whether he likes it or not and hell, he made a deal with a literal demon to try and get Ford back. He let himself get possessed and endanger the kids because he missed Ford. 

He's grieving and he feels like he's going insane. 

He loves Stanford more than anyone else and if Stanford wasn't here, then what was the point? His life has always been driven by Ford. Protect Ford from bullies. Get a million dollars so he can go back and see Ford. Fake his own death so he can bring back Ford. What does he do know?

He's lost and doesn't have a flashlight because half of him is gone. Half of him is gone and he can't recover. He's going insane because half of him is gone because he's too stupid. Too stupid to tell others what happened to Ford. Too stupid to get the portal working. Too stupid to not see the demon for what he is. Too stupid. 

He's grieving and he's past sad. He feels like he can't go on. Stanford's his twin brother for god's sake, he can't just f

forget

 

forget

about

him.

-

It's breakfast the next morning and they are all sitting at the table.

"Kids, I called your parents. A bus will come for you tomorrow."

A sad sniffle and two nods like they were expecting this. There's a long silence.

"Do your parents know who Stanford is?"

Mabel answers after a thoughtful hum, "No, I don't think so. I doubt they even think that's your name. They probably just know you by your nickname since you're never around."

"Huh."

-

It's midnight and he's staring at his reflection in the six-fingered hand-print on Journal 1. 

"I should have done this sooner," He says to the silence of the pines, a sharp intake of air as he throws the stack of three journals into the bottomless pit in front of him. He picks up the box of childhood photos and does the same, watching them float slowly downward, catching the wind. "It's what you would've wanted." 

-

The house deed is laid on his desk in front of him. With white paint and a careful hand, he erases Stanford's name.

-

He picks up the memory gun, the name from the last use still winking up at him. He swallows his feelings and climbs up to the attic, the old wood groaning under him as if it knows what's about to happen. 

He opens the twin's door silently, a breeze from outside rattling the window. The window brings in moonlight, making Dipper and Mabel's face glow. He's numb as he closes his eyes, shooting two shots into the night. They sleep peacefully as if nothing happened at all.

He glides back downstairs, throwing the canister of memories into the trashcan. The loud glass shatter tears through the dead silent night. He doesn't flinch. 

He goes into his old, rotting office and stands in front of the mirror. There's a bright light and Stanley forgets Stanford Pines.


	10. he goes on

Stanford steps through a portal and finds himself falling. 

He's falling and suddenly he isn't, plunged into cold water that makes him gasp involuntarily. Salt water fills his mouth and he swims upward, breaking through the surface. 

He splutters, spitting water every which way as he treads. Huh. It seemed that the portal dropped him into the middle of the ocean in an earth dimension. Luckily, a boat was also in the middle of the ocean and he was right next to it. 

Two figures that he can't make out are staring down at him and Ford waves a hand at them, going underwater momentarily to do so. "Greetings! Can I board your boat?"

There's a pause and Ford can imagine that the two figures are murmuring to each other. "Sure," One yells back and Ford smiles, side-stroking over to the back of the boat to board. 

He's climbing up the ladder on the back when a hand offering help up makes an appearance. A six fingered hand. His eyes widen and he falls off the ladder and back into the water in surprise. He lets out a string of alien curses as he breaks through the surface again. 

"I told you, we shouldn't help him," He hears himself mutter to what he figures is the other person on the boat. Ford looks up and makes eye contact with Stanley.

Stanley is older than Ford's ever seen him and he just looks so happy. His hair is long like it was when Ford's seen Stan last, covered with a red beanie. His shoulders have widened, Ford notes, his stomach also having grown larger. Ford also notices how similar he and Stan look, a home-y feeling settling deep in his gut at that fact.

Stan lets out a loud laugh and slaps his Stanford on the back, making his glasses slide to the end of his nose. "Ha, Sixer! You need to get your prescription checked at the next port if you can't even recognize yourself." 

Eyes wide with surprise, the Other Stanford makes eye contact with Ford. His mouth turns into a thoughtful frown. "That explains the portal, then."

Stan sticks a hand out this time, helping Ford onto the ship. Ford shrugs off his wet coat and gives a small wave to the brothers. "Sorry for bothering you, didn't really mean to end up here."

The Other Ford nods, rubbing his chin as he eyes unfocused, which Ford knows he does when he starts thinking something through. "No, no. It's alright. I understand," The Other Ford says, "We'll get you cleaned up and set you on your way. I reckon it's fine to send you to your home dimension. Bill's gone so even if a rift forms, it shouldn't be too much of a problem."

Stan snorts, "Ford, no one says 'reckon' anymore."

"I do," Ford says.

"Doesn't count," Stan says back.

"Wait," Ford says, just processing what the Other Ford had said, "Bill's gone?"

The Other Ford nods, a grim smile taking over his face. "Yes," his smile turns loving as he directs it into Stan's direction, "This knucklehead defeated him."

Ford wonders briefly what happened between the Other Ford and this Stan to make them get along so nicely. Ford looks around to the boat he's standing on for the first time, "Is this the Stan O' War?"

Stan nods with a wide smile of pure happiness stretching on his face. "Yep, got her at the end of summer a few weeks back." 

Ford looks around at the boat again and doesn't really know what to say, so he settles with, "Wow."

"Lets talk more inside," the Other Ford said, "The sun is getting really hot."

And so Stan and Ford are sitting at the small kitchen table inside, the Other Ford leaning on a counter away from them. "Like I said before," he said, "I can help you get back to your home dimension."

"My home dimension?" Ford questions back, fiddling with the sleeve of the sweater that the Other Ford gave to him. He doesn't really know what that means. 

"Yes," the Other Ford says with a firm nod and sip of coffee, "Although, I wonder why your Stanley hasn't opened the portal for you."

"Stan's been working on the portal? Doesn't he know how dangerous that is?" Ford turns to Stan who shrugs in response. 

"Yep. Didn't stop me though." Stan doesn't look like he regretted anything.

"Maybe that's what differs in our dimensions," Ford said in response, "My Stan just never tried to fix the portal."

Stan shakes his head immediately with a gruff noise from deep in his throat. "Nope. That Stan's not Stan if he wouldn't do whatever it takes to get you back."

"I agree with Stan," the Other Ford said after a few thoughtful moments, "Maybe something happened to Stan to make working on the portal impossible..." The Other Ford jerks up with a finger pointed to the ceiling as Ford can tell an idea pops into his head. The Other Ford sets his cup down and rummages through the drawer next to the fridge, pulling out a tape measure. 

He hands it to Stan, who hands it to Ford. "Dipper gave this me this time machine to study, I'm sure he won't mind if I give it to myself. You can use it if something too bad has happened in your dimension."

Stan raises an eyebrow at his Ford, "Are you sure this is a good idea? Doesn't that make, like, paradoxes and people not being born and stuff?"

"I don't see anything that would too bad happening," The Other Ford says, Ford nodding in agreement.

"Hey, that's not fair. You two can just agree with each other and out-vote me." Stan crosses his arms and the Other Ford ignores him.

"Give me your portal gun and I can modify it to send you to your home dimension." Ford takes it out of his pack and gives it to Stan, who gives it to his Ford. "I'll be right back. You both stay here." 

The Other Ford leaves and Ford turns to Stan. "How long did you work on the portal for?"

"Thirty years," Stan says, "I had to teach myself all the high school math I missed and of course, all your dumb portal math." 

Stan is teasing him and it feels nice. He never knew the day would come in which he missed teasing. A smile comes over his face that dies when he remembers the last time he saw his own Stanley. He voices his earlier question, "What happened that made your relationship so friendly?"

"The end of the world," Stan says seriously, looking at the ground. "I had to erase all my memories in order to defeat Bill. The weeks of recovery definitely brought us closer, more than anything."

They are both quiet until the Other Ford returns, a proud smile and hair looking a little more poofy than before. He hands the portal gun to Stan, who hands it to Ford. "All you need to do is enter your dimension and you're golden." 

Stan winces at the Other Ford's words, "Too soon."

Ford ignores what seems to be a inside joke between them and enters his dimension name. He feels weird. Like he can't quite process the enormity of what's about to happen. All the Stans make their way to the deck of the boat. 

"Thank you for your hospitality," Ford said to the two brothers, their arms around each other.

"Hey, I'm just helping myself out," The Other Ford said with a wink and a teasing tone. 

"Go give your Stan a punch in the face for me. Probably deserves it." The Other Ford laughs at that, punching Stan in the shoulder. Stan pushes the Other Ford back and Ford's heart hurts at seeing the loving interactions.

"Well, goodbye." Ford gives a final way to himself and the alternate version of his twin brother (Man, his life is weird.) He shoots a portal and steps through.

He goes on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
